


The Destitute King

by Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dragons, Family Bonding, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snotlout Jorgenson and Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III are cousins, Snotlout Jorgenson and Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III bonding, Snotlout Jorgenson has anxiety, Snotlout Jorgenson has depression, Snotlout Jorgenson needs a hug, Snotlout whump, Team Bonding, Whump, but shhh you don't get to know what he's king of yet, but then i lost. all motivation to work on this., cousin bonding, he's not king of the people of the island, i cant beleive theres a tag for sibling bonding but none for cousins, i don't like the tags that show up when i typed in 'blood', in which snotlout becomes king but not the way he thinks, not yet but later, oh well, theyre a family dangit they need to act like it, this was GONNA be a multichapter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine/pseuds/Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine
Summary: Destitute[des-ti-toot, -tyoot]adj.1. without means of subsistence; lacking food, clothing, and shelter.2. deprived of, devoid of, or lacking (often followed byofverb (used with object)des·ti·tut·ed, des·ti·tut·ing.3. to leave destituteSometimes, one can watch themselves rise above the troubles of their life. And sometimes one can only watch as one falls.





	The Destitute King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlummyPlums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlummyPlums/gifts).



> Was brainstorming on my writing server and my friend PlummyPlums encouraged my madness, so huzzah
> 
> Edit as of 9/14/19: this fic was supposed to be a lot longer than it was, but i fell out of interest with it as i attempted to write, and decided it would be better left as a oneshot. I apologize to any of you who may have been wanting more.

They’d landed on the island not too long ago.

 

He’d gone on a small tour of the village with the twins - they’d asked around, because it had seemed like there was some kind of celebration that was going to take place. Their initial answer was that it was none of their business, but then they got a different answer.

 

They were preparing for the Trials. Which were there to choose a new king.

 

Snotlout was currently one of the only candidates to become king.

 

Snotlout also did not particularly want to die so soon after maybe, _maybe_ getting some respect in the eyes of the other riders.

 

So, he did the logical thing and ran towards the beach where the others were. “Guys, we need to get out of here!” And - oh. There was Mala. “Uh, heeey babe, what’s up?” He chuckled nervously. “Were you thinking of me? I know I was just thinking about you.”

 

“Hello again, Snotlout.” Mala said, as pristine and regal as she had been since he’d first met her.

 

Snotlout wasn’t entirely sure what had happened next, but he did vaguely remember Hiccup wanting to have a moment with him and he remembered saying something about not wanting to die, before the twins commented on... _something_ regarding how Snotlout would _most definitely die_ , and he _did_ remember storming off in determination to prove them wrong. He wasn’t going to die. Snotlout was going to show them that he was _worth_ something, no matter what it took.

 

He stood in front of a bubbling lake of lava, and he stretched, warmed up - he wasn’t going to go down easily. He had to prove himself. As he watched, the Eruptodon came and walked to the other side of the lake, shooting out balls of molten rock that cooled somewhat compared to the rest of the lava, and formed a bridge. Snotlout looked over it, pushed away his nerves, and began walking. The rocks were hot, and burned the soles of his feet, but still he kept walking. It wasn’t until he heard sizzling that he realized he had made it to the other side - missing the bottoms of his shoes, but he had made it across nonetheless.

 

 _What’s next?_ His mind wondered. _What will I have to do next to prove that I’m worth something?_

 

He could hear the people cheering, and he was aware of the Tuffnut saying something - asking if it had hurt? “Didn’t feel a thing.” He said, pushing away the protests from his burnt feet. _Didn’t feel a thing at all._

 

Then he was then taken to the next trial - tunnels of some sort, filled with water and eels. He babbled something about them being friendly, but he knew the answer. Those eels were dangerous. And Snotlout could very easily be killed. By the looks of them, those eels were poisonous - which just added another layer of dangers.

 

But still.

 

_I have to prove myself._

 

He took a mace and clambered down the ladder into the shallow waters. The mace wouldn’t do him any good, but it was comforting to have one all the same. He waded through the waters as fast as he could, kicking and shaking away the few eels that had gotten a latch on his shoes, and when he got to a much shallower area with more sand (and a few holes in the stone walls) he briefly thought that this was going to be easy, and charged through it as best he could. The exit was near, but - there were eels everywhere, and a few had managed to get a grip on him for a few short seconds, and there were even more eels swimming towards him from where the exit ladder was, but-

 

But he had to prove himself, and if he had to die to do so, then so be it.

 

He charged forwards, using the mace to knock away any eels coming towards him - Fishlegs was offering to get him out of there, but Snotlout refused, because he had to _prove_ himself, and even if there were giant eels, _nothing_ was going to stop him from showing them all that he was _worth_ something. The next few seconds were a bit of a hazy blur as well, but he was aware of climbing back up the ladder with Fishlegs in his arm, and of making it to the top of the maze.

 

 _What’s the last trial?_ His mind asked. _What more do they want from me?_

 

He didn’t yet know, because there was a feast, and Snotlout knew that whatever happened for the next trial, be it that same day or the next one, he would need to have his energy and rest replenished. So he ate and drank, and raised a cup to toast Mala, and he tried to put on an air of nonchalance. _I have to prove myself._ It was like a mantra in Snotlout’s head. _I have to prove my worth._

 

Astrid and Fishlegs approached him, saying that his run was luck and nothing more, trying to get him not to finish the trials - but Snotlout paid them no mind. _I have to prove myself I have to prove myself I have to prove myself_ . The mantra repeated, over and over again. He wasn’t going to let this chance at finally being _worth_ something pass him by.

 

“You two are so unsupportive.” He told Astrid and Fishlegs, and snapped his fingers, asking for them to be escorted away - and they were. (The people of the village seemed to hold him in high respects, though whether it was because Snotlout was _Snotlout_ or whether it was because he was the potential king, he didn’t know.)

 

He enjoyed the rest of his meal as best he could. The hyena gizzards were, well - they tasted good, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about eating _hyena gizzards_. But it didn’t matter. Food was food, and he needed to be ready for the last trial.

 

He woke the next day, feeling nervous, but also. . .  also _hopeful_. He was _so close_ -

 

Snotlout stretched and prepared to the best of his ability, and he hoped that he’d make it through the last of the trials. He had to prove himself.

 

“It would look real bad if you were to slip up and end up shooting that arrow at the queen.” He remembered himself saying as Throk notched a bow.

 

“That’s why you’ll be taking it for her.” Throk said, a hint of a smile on his face. “Your final trial is to race to the queen, and protect her from the arrow, letting it pierce your flesh instead of hers.”

 

 _Wait, what does he mean?_ Did - did he mean he was going to -

 

Snotlout took off running before Throk even fired the arrow, desperately throwing himself across the stones, hoping to get there in time, because he was _so close_ and _he couldn’t let the queen get hurt-_

 

The next few moments were a blur, but he heard the whizzing of an arrow and then all he could think of was a sharp and deep _pain_ in his arm, and it _hurt_ , but the arrow had hit him instead and it hadn’t hit the queen, she was _okay-_

 

The next few moments were hazy for him, and Snotlout was confused why no one wanted him to move, the arrow wasn’t _that_ deep, it didn’t hurt as much now that it had gone numb, he was _fine_ -

 

But there were healers there, frantically trying to get the arrow out (why? It wasn’t that bad) and they pressed a cloth against his arm and it came back _red_ -

 

 _Oh._ There was the pain. And Snotlout screamed, before everything turned to static and his vision wouldn’t work properly, and that annoying ringing in his ears wouldn’t go away-

 

He could hear _someone_ being worried about him, and he thought he might have even seen Hookfang amongst the worried faces of the other riders and the people of the village, but that had to have been a trick of his mind, because the riders would never be worried about him-

 

And then someone was shouting, and he went limp, eyes closing and the world falling away into a deep, deep darkness and void of sound or emotion.

 

* * *

 

 

Hiccup was _not_ panicking, thank you very much.

 

He hadn’t panicked since Toothless nearly died fighting the Red Death, and this wasn’t anything as bad as that. Just. . . Snotlout had gotten shot with an arrow. To prove himself worth of being Mala’s King, or some stupid reason. His cousin had gotten himself _shot_ with an _arrow_ for some _stupid trial_ and now he was _bleeding out_ and _screaming_ , and none of the village healers could seem to calm him down.

 

Almost as soon as he had begun to scream, though, Snotlout quieted and fell limp. The healers looked more worried now, and Hiccup didn’t like the look in their eyes. “Queen Mala?” He asked, trying to keep his tone level and not shaky like it would have been before. . . _before_. “What’s going on? Is Snotlout okay?”

 

“I. . . do not know.” She said, and her voice seemed almost _uncertain_. “In all the trials that have happened on this island, none have made it past the third trial without death or minor wounds, but Snotlout is the first to receive such a major wound not immediately fatal.”

 

“Okay, but what does that _mean_?” Astrid asked in a tone making it more of a demand. “If our friend is going to die, then you should just _tell us_ that!”

 

“He won’t die,” Mala said immediately. “Not if my healers can work fast enough on him.”

 

True to her word, the healers were already picking Snotlout up and ferrying him towards one of the buildings, calling out nervously in some language that Hiccup didn’t understand. “Is there anything we can do to help?” He asked, and tried not to betray his nerves. “Anything we can do for Snotlout, or to help the healers?”

 

Mala was silent for a second too many, and Hiccup’s heart sped up in those few seconds. Finally -

 

“There is one thing.” She said.

 

“Well, what is it?” Astrid _asked_ again.

 

“You will need to gather fresh water and a certain plant,” Mala said. “If used correctly, the paste made from the plant will be rid of any possible infections and speed up the healing rate of the wound. But you must hurry.” She stressed. “There isn’t much time.”

 

“Okay, well, what’s the plant we need to get?” Fishlegs asked, whining nervously. “It would be easier to get the plant if we knew what we were looking for.”

 

Mala nodded her head. “The plant is what we call ‘dragonsbane’ in our language, but you might know it as ‘blue oleander’.”

 

The reactions from the others was immediate. “Wait, what?” Exclaimed Fishlegs.

 

“Woah, we have to get blue oleander. What’s blue oleander again?” Tuffnut, clueless as ever, asked, though it might have been from trying to get confirmation. . . or, Tuffnut was just being Tuffnut.

 

“It’s the blue flower that kills our dragons, idiot!” His sister said, smacking him. “Don’t you remember trying to give some of that to mom’s dragon and how she burnt them all down?”

 

“Oh yeah, that! That was a sad, sad day. All those hours of picking flowers wasted.”

 

“Can we please get back on track?” Hiccup asked desperately. "Mala, are you sure that it’s blue oleander that we need to get to save Snotlout? Not some other oleander flower?”

 

“Yes, it is the blue oleander that you will need if you are going to give my king a chance to live. Now, hurry. There isn’t much time.”

 

Hiccup cast a look at the rest of the riders. “Well, you heard her. Come on gang, we need to get those flowers to save Snotlout. Fishlegs, you get the freshwater. Astrid, you and I will get the flowers. Heather, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, I need you three to stay here and help out in any other way you can while Astrid and I get the oleander. Everyone understand?” a few seconds of agreements, and then Hiccup was slinging himself onto Toothless’ back, Astrid on Stormfly right behind him, hoping and praying that they’d be able to get to the flowers fast enough to save his cousin’s life.

 

The problem wasn’t finding the flowers - one could find them anywhere if they looked hard enough. The problem was finding a way to get the flowers back to the Isle of the Defenders of the Wing without causing harm to Toothless or Stormfly. Eventually, Astrid decided to take one of the previously empty sacks of cloth that she had, and carried the flowers in that. She’d have to burn the sack later to remove any of the traces of the flowers that might have remained, but for now, it worked.

 

Astrid didn’t stay on Stormfly long enough to properly disembark, choosing to instead leap off the back of her dragon and racing over to the hut with the healers. Fishlegs was already there, with the freshwater nearby. One of the healers took both the flowers and the freshwater and immediately set about making a blue paste, shooing the rest of them out of the hut.

 

“Wait, can I- can I at least see him, he’s my cousin!” Hiccup pleaded, and the healers exchanged a quick look before agreeing on something.

 

“Fine. you may stay and watch, but only you.”

 

So Hiccup stayed. The healers wouldn’t let any of the dragons into the hut either, no matter how much Hookfang screamed and cried and flamed up, but after several minutes, Hookfang seemed to accept defeat, instead wrapping his body around the hut in hopes of somehow being able to protect Snotlout like that. “It’ll be okay, Hookfang.” Hiccup told the dragon, stroking his head as Hookfang crooned nervously. “I won’t let Snotlout die. I’ll make sure he’s okay. I promise.” Hookfang still looked morosely at the door, but he laid his head back down on the ground as Hiccup went back into the hut.

 

The sight that he saw wasn't one that Hiccup thought he would ever be able to forget. Snotlout, laying on one of the cots, pale and seeming almost fevered, motionless aside from the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The freckles that had slowly been hidden by the gradual tanning of Snotlout’s skin seemed so much more noticeable now that the rest of his skin was as pale as it was, and Hiccup couldn’t help but feel that the sight was bittersweet, as one of the few happy memories - the two cousins playing in the fields, both faces covered in freckles, before the worries of dragons and the pressures of their parents - now tainted with the memory of those same freckles being visible again only when Hiccup’s cousin was on the brink of death.

 

The healers continued their workings. At some point they managed to clean the arrow wound and put the blue paste over it, securing the area with bandages just to be sure, and then the majority of the healers left, likely to rest from the frenzy of saving their new king. Soon, it was only Hiccup who sat near Snotlout’s cot, as the few remaining healers in the large hut looked after the other patients.

 

Now there was only Hiccup to sit there and reflect, only Hiccup to sit by the bedside of his cousin and pray to the gods that Snotlout would make it through.

 

“You’ll be okay,” Hiccup promised the still form of Snotlout. “You’re too stubborn to die.”

 

Snotlout remained still and silent.

 

Hiccup sighed, then leaned forwards to put a hand on one of Snotlout’s. “You’re going to be okay.” Hiccup promised. “I know you. You still had so much you wanted to do - you’re not going to just give up now. You’re strong, Snotlout. I know you can get through this.”

 

Still, Snotlout did not move. Hiccup sighed again, and set about making sure that he was more comfortable. He had a feeling that he would be there for a long while; he’d promised Hookfang he would make sure Snotlout was okay, and Hiccup was nothing if not a man who upheld his promises.

 

“You’re going to be okay.” He told Snotlout again. “We’ll all be waiting for you to get better. Just take your time.”

**Author's Note:**

> as i mentioned above, i _did_ have bigger plans that didn't come to fruition.
> 
> if, however, you ever decide you want to take the information and bits you find from that channel and make it your own fic, by all means feel free to do so!


End file.
